I Did it For Driveshaft
by AmandaDeLonge
Summary: Things have so far gone well with the newfound survivor on the island. But is she involved with the Others, what does she know about Michael, is she involved in Jack's disappearance, and what's up with her obsession with Charlie? WARNING: spoilers
1. Daphne's Here Too

_Note: This is my first ever posted fanfic anywhere... Hope you like it. Please comment...Also, written and takes place just after_ One of Them

_Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like to, I'll never own Lost or its characters or its beautifully crafted plotline..._

_Summary: Another survivor of flight 815 is found... watch the rest unfold. (Also, I've written this so it'll parallel the show. With each new episode, I'll have fresh ideas and more info to know what's going on, so yeah...)_

Claire had another of her dreams; so vivid and real when she was experiencing it, but on reflection completely nonsensical and insane. In this one, the psychic came to her and told her that she had to be with Charlie. She reasoned with him that Charlie was a drug addict, that Charlie had nearly drowned the baby, that Charlie couldn't be a part of Aaron's life anymore. The psychic gave her a number of great reasons why Charlie would be a suitable father, but as Claire woke to the sound of her crying baby, they escaped her recollection.

It was early night. The light of stars and numerous torches lit the beach. She quickly got herself composed and went to the baby. She picked him up. Aaron was wet. For a tick she thought she would have to get up and make him a clean diaper, but she quickly recalled the pile that Charlie had left.

Why did he have to make it so hard for her to forget him? Charlie wasn't allowed to see the baby or in actuality even Claire for that matter, but he still every so often made nappies for Aaron and left them by Claire's place when she wasn't looking.

Claire glanced over to where Charlie had parked himself. Since the episode with the baby, Charlie had spent most of his time sitting on the sand, not quite in the water and watching the waves roll in and out of the shoreline.

Claire wondered if he was still using. He had discarded all of the heroin that was inside the figurine. But how could she know that that was the last of it? He knew what was within the statue before it was shattered - there had to be more of them. He most likely had a few of them stashed somewhere.

Claire felt like she should hate Charlie. For what he did to the baby. For being mendacious. For lying to her. But she couldn't hate him, no matter how much she tried. He tried to look after her, yes, but he failed at even that. He made her laugh so hard sometimes, but it seemed to be something to hide his own insecurity, to conceal his habit and his past. He was a drug-addict, a loser, and she suspected him of setting the camp ablaze to make a distraction while he took the baby. But there was something about him that made her want to hold on to him and forgive him for everything he did. She felt like a loon for clinging to him still.

Charlie was like that song, "He's Evil" by the Kinks. It wasn't a particularly good song, the lyrics weren't great, the music wasn't anything out of the ordinary. But you loved it all the same, maybe because it made you laugh or because just hearing it put you in high spirits for some baffling, unexplained reason.

She longed to remember her first two weeks on the island. In her subconscious, there had to be knowledge about Charlie locked away. She felt that if she could remember, her inexplicable fondness -even love- for Charlie would be explained.

The Claire that had written the diary seemed a lot surer about trusting Charlie than the Claire that was now changing Aaron's nappy. She wondered if that Claire had known about the drugs. One of the few things she remembered was Charlie mentioning his addiction. But she also dredged up a nervous "I'm clean now" following the statement.

Claire was still staring at Charlie when Aaron cried out. Charlie turned, concerned, and caught a glimpse of Claire looking at him before she turned away. Claire didn't want Charlie to know. It would only make matters more difficult. Charlie started to get up, then thought better of it and stayed put. Claire needed space. He respected that, as much as he didn't like it. He got back to staring blankly at the crashing waves.

"Everybody, make way!" Jack and Kate carried a girl in from the jungle. She was wearing a blue jacket and jeans, and was shoeless. And she wasn't one of the 48 survivors from the fuselage or one of the tailies. No one recognized her.

"Oh, man, she's not one of the Others?" Hurley asked, hoping it wasn't. Only a few were in on the fact that just recently one of them had been captured. As this idea swept over, the crowd grew anxious. Sayid was especially uneasy. He didn't want to torture a teenage girl without prior questioning and proof that she knew anything. That she was really an Other. Jack gave her some water to drink and brought her around.

Jin was yelling something, repeating it. Everyone wondered what he was saying.

She opened her eyes. She looked around, nervous. But she didn't panic. "Where am I? Who are you?" She again scanned her surroundings.

"You're on an island, somewhere in the south Pacific. Where did you come from?" Jack questioned.

"I…I'm from Tustin, California. In Orange County. I… I was in Sydney, by myself, I went to go see this band… I was getting on a plane to LAX tomorrow. "

"Do you know what flight it was?"

"Um… 185 … No it was 815… I'm pretty sure."

Sayid huddled next to Jack. "The Others… they know our flight number. They could have planted this girl- their last attempt failed. They think that we won't fall for it, a teenage girl with a broken memory. But they are wrong. Something about this girl is strange."

"We can't be so sure, Sayid. We can't know that she's not telling the truth."

Charlie overheard them, then glanced at the girl and suddenly remembered something. "No," he said softly, but loud enough so that everyone heard. "Wait, she… you were sitting near me. On the plane. I remember." He moved his glance from the girl to the ground. "She's not one of them."

The girl looked at the man who spoke out for her. "Charlie?" Charlie kept his vision directed at the soft sand under his shoes.

"How do you know Charlie's name?" Jack interrogated as Claire came up to the back of the small crowd that was gathering around Jack, Kate, and the girl who were at the centre.

She looked at Charlie, for some reason, with a hurt expression on her face. "He's Charlie. From Driveshaft. The genius behind it all." She gave a wry smile. Charlie kept his glance at his feet. Just about all and sundry noticed the look of shame on his face.


	2. Just an Autograph

_Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like to, I'll never own Lost or its characters or its beautifully crafted plotline..._

_Note: Written and takes place just after_ One of Them

Charlie looked out the window at the wispy clouds surrounding the plane. He needed a fix. Now. He noticed a girl to his far right. She was staring at him. He wondered if she noticed his shakiness, or if she was staring at him because of the incessant drumbeat he was making with his ring against the armrest, or if she had actually recognized him.

It'd been a while since anyone had. Especially someone as young as her. But for now, he was too concerned with his own matters to really pay the girl any attention. He got uneasy glances from the other passengers and passing flight attendants. He kept tapping. Metal against metal. Tap. Tap. Tap.

He needed his fix. He needed it right now. But maybe not. Maybe he could hold out for a few moments longer. All he had to do was get up, go to the toilet, do some quick, then get back to his seat. That wasn't suspicious. People went to the loo on planes all the time. He had made the whole ride from Manchester to Sydney fine. This trip was half the distance. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He could hold out for a bit longer. He had to be able to. He could control himself.

As the tapping continued, more people began to stare. The expressions of annoyance on the other passengers turned to ones of anxiety. It was getting worse. He needed it more and more. Finally he couldn't wait any longer.

He began to get up, but a girl and approached him. In her hand were a battered photograph and a Sharpie.

"Excuse me… Charlie Pace?"

"Charlie had to get up. He needed his fix. "Yeah?" He finally replied, voice shaky. He settled himself back down. The tapping continued. He began to perspire.

"Well, hi. My name's Daphne Scholtz. You know, D.S. Like Driveshaft? You know, it's as if I was meant to meet you here. It's fate. Because you know, I had this picture taken and I couldn't get anything signed because you were in a hurry and I had to get it developed and could you please sign this for me maybe?" she said, rushed and nervous, but smiling.

She held out the photo. Oddly enough, he recognized it immediately. It had been taken about 4 years previously at an arena near Disneyland. In it, Liam and Charlie stood behind a girl of about 12. It was before Charlie realized his brother was an addict. Before Charlie developed into an addict. He remembered happier times. But looking back, he saw that Liam's addiction was apparent. He looked haggard, worn. Pretty much how Charlie himself looked right now.

The girl saw how he was acting. She detected his anxiety, the tapping, his nervous movement. He held out an unsteady hand to accept the snapshot.

"It's true, isn't it?" she said, voice quavering, visibly upset, staring at the photo. "You're all just junkies. The rumors… they're true. You didn't break up so your brother could spend time with his daughter, did you? You did it because of the drugs." She was sobbing gently now, and jerked her unsigned photo back and chucked the marker at him.

"Sod off" he said, his nerves affected by the intrusive lass. He wasn't angry, just a little irritated, but he sounded furious. He was just somewhat touchy. He needed to get up. But after that incident, he had called too much attention to himself. He would have to wait even longer.

He cursed himself under his breath and tried to relax. He pocketed the black Sharpie, not really thinking of it for the moment. He didn't have time right now to feel bad. He needed a fix. He could hear the girl crying softly from her seat. Deep down he felt terrible. Remorseful. But the main thing on his mind was when he would be able to get up and put himself right and whether or not he could safely keep his stash hidden once he had done so.


	3. Introductions

_Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like to, I'll never own Lost or its characters or its beautifully crafted plotline..._

_Note: Written and takes place just after_ One of Them

Charlie sauntered over to where the girl was set. "Yea, that's me," he said, taking a knee next to her. "Y'know, I never got to sign that picture for you." Her hand found its way into the right pocket of her jacket. She pulled it out of her pocket and slowly handed it to Charlie. He accepted it and pulled out the marker. He hadn't used it since he had replaced the F on his bandages to an L. Fate. Maybe all of this was fate. Predestined. How could anyone ever know?

He scrawled something down and handed it to her. "To a loyal fan, Daphne- Still on the bloody island… but have hope. Fate brought each of us here. You've relieved a burden you know nothing about, so thank you." He knew it was cheesy, but he couldn't really think of anything clever. He just wrote what came to him, and he didn't care. He finished it off with his big, rather loopy, rock-star signature. It felt good to write it. It had been a while since he had written it for a fan, and in every stroke the guilt of how he had acted on the plane evaporated.

He handed it back. God, that felt better. The incident on the plane, now nearly forgotten, had been plaguing him up to this moment as much as it had been. It was finally off his chest.

"You remember my name?" She looked pleased.

"Remember?"

"Er… yeah. I mean, I must've told you my name on the plane. Otherwise, how would you know it?"

"Right then. So, you're probably asking the question: where the bloody hell are we?" The girl nodded. Charlie began to explain, omitting certain details about polar bears and monsters made of black smoke and how the rescue team was searching for them in the wrong place.

He thought about whether or not he should tell her about the Others. He had a feeling that they were who took her in the first place. He decided against it, with things going the way they were. She would probably know soon enough.

"Oh yeah, and we found a hatch."

"You found the hatch?"

"What?"

"How did you get inside?"

"How do you know about the hatch?" Charlie asked, now a bit chary about her.

"I didn't. Just sounds interesting," she replied with a hint of panic in her voice.

"Charlie, why are you the only one who recognizes her?" Kate asked.

Sun showed up. Jin spoke to her. "Jin says he recognizes her. From the terminal. It is fine," she translated.

"Oh, yeah! I saw her sitting between Arnzd and Steve!" Hurley remembered.

"I'm right here!" Steve called out. "You mean Scott."

"Yeah, sorry dude. But if they were here, they probably would've been the first to say somethin'."

"Oh, you guys probably want to know. Her name's Daphne."

"Were there other survivors?" Daphne asked.

"There were more of us… this island is different, Daphne. A few of us aren't here. Sun and Libby are at Sun's garden. Who knows where Mr. Eko's off to. And Michael ran off in search of his son."

"Michael?"  
"Yeah. His son, Walt… went missing."

"Hm."

Each castaway introduced him or herself to Daphne. Even, surprisingly, Sawyer, who had been even more detached since Hurley was angry with him and Kate was the only one who was still really speaking to him. Sawyer leaned up next to Daphne and handed her something. Kate watched from aside, wondering his real motive for being so nice to this new member of the crew.

As Sawyer disbanded, Claire walked up to the girl with Aaron in tote. "Hi, I'm Claire," she aid, rocking the baby back and forth. "And this… is Aaron"

"He's so cute…" Claire smiled.

"His head reminds me of a turnip."

"What?" Claire was slightly disturbed by the similarity between her comment and Charlie's.

"Oh, shoot. Sorry. I didn't mean to make fun. I think it's adorable…"

"No, that's not it. Charlie said exactly the same thing."

"Really?" she looked satisfied with herself. Claire found the reaction odd. "Y'know, I'm kind of obsessed with Driveshaft." Claire had noticed. She wore the same black nail polish on only her right hand and a blue hoodie emblazoned with a giant D.S. on the back.

When Claire and Charlie first met, he decided not to play the "I'm in a band" card. She respected him for that. She was barely surprised when she found out. She knew he looked familiar, but hadn't said anything. She guessed it didn't really matter now.

"Um, you could hold him if you like" Claire began to hand the baby over when a memory flashed for a split-second before her eyes. She saw a dharma station in the jungle and she remembered the girl- Daphne- stumbling beside her.

Claire pulled Aaron back toward her. Daphne frowned. "What's wrong?" she asked, and a wave of fear swept her face.

"Oh, nothing… Sorry, I'm always a bit reluctant to just hand him over. Here you go."

Daphne held the baby.

Hurley was next up. He was his usual, amiable self and got off with her great right away. "Hey I'm .Hurley. Dude, if you ever need something, just ask. There's a record player in the hatch, too. If you wanna listen to some Geronimo Jackson or somethin'."

"There's a record player?" Her curiosity about the hatch manifested again.

"Yeah. I had a CD player I kind of found in the wreckage, but it's out of batteries."

"You found my CD player?"

"Huh?"

"Yeah, that was mine… sorry about the selection. It was just a bunch of random songs on there. Joe Purdy, Willie Nelson, Damien Rice. It's not even my CD. A bunch of songs, my friend's songs to calm the nerves. I'm not a great flyer… But, I've got some batteries. She pulled a couple of AA's from her pocket.

"Sweet."

"And I've got this…" she pulled a cracked jewel case from her pocket. "Oil Change… One of my most prized possessions." She grinned. "They let me hold onto it…" she stopped.

"What?"

"The airport security I mean."

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Um, so, what have you guys been eating here?"

" Oh. There was a bunch of food, but we kind of had a feast. But…" Hurley secreted a jar of peanut butter from his pocket and handed it to Daphne. She pocketed the jar, no one else saw. "Locke catches boars and stuff to eat sometimes. Plus, there's lots of fruit. Jin's an awesome fisherman. He can like, grab fish with his hands. Totally Karate Kid. And, we have our very own island golf course. Thanks to me." He smiled, then looked at the CD case. Etched in it were numbers. 4. 8. 15. 16. 23. 42. His smile faded. "Later…" he said, stumbling off backward to where he slept.

Locke introduced himself with a firm handshake. "So you're from Tustin, huh?"

"Yeah, you've been there?" she asked, surprised.

"I used to work in a box company in Tustin." He wanted to ask her more questions. About Tustin. To be sure that she wasn't lying. He decided not to for fear of seeming to anxious.

He was exceptionally suspicious about her, despite Charlie's reassurance that she had been on the plane. Now, thinking back, he could remember seeing her in the airport lobby, headphones blaring.

Still, something seemed off about her. How had she survived this whole time on the island without running into them? Why hadn't she been with the fuselage survivors or the ones from the tail end of the plane? Had she been in first class? No. That didn't make sense. She was sitting near Charlie. Moreover, how had she lost her memory? It made little sense to him.


	4. Suspicions

When the crowd died down and everyone was finished with introductions, Jack cross-examined her. "Do you remember anything about this place? About being here?"

"No." Her voice was nervous, as if she'd say something wrong. Hiding something. Sayid recognized this straight away.

"Are you quite sure?" Sayid questioned.

"Uh huh." They left her alone. Sayid immediately voiced his suspicions.

"Jack, there is something she is withholding from us. I don't know what it is, but she seems to be lying." Jack wasn't so sure.

"She's just scared, Sayid. Anyone would be. We found one person, Sayid, who was one of them. That doesn't mean she is, that anyone else will ever come. Remember, she was on the plane. Charlie's a witness to that. And she was on the manifest."

"I am sorry. You are probably right. But, do realize, Jack. The Others are capable of anything. Do not forget that they strung Charlie up by his neck and left him for dead. That they destroyed down Michael's raft, and abducted Walt. They made off with the children from the tail section and kidnapped…"

"Claire." Claire found her way to where Jack and Sayid were discussing the girl.

"Hey, Jack," Claire raised a question. "I was talking to Daphne, and I remembered, when Ethan kidnapped me, I remember seeing her."

"Do you recall anything else?" Sayid asked.

"Not really… but I think- I think they kidnapped her when we first landed. I think… I think that they tamper with our memory to scare us, mess with us. But, do you know Libby?" Jack nodded. "I think that she can help us remember. Daphne should come with me. Maybe give us some clues to… what's up?"

"Good thinking. Where's the baby?"

"Oh, Daphne's watching him over."

"Be careful. Daphne's pretty much obsessed with Charlie."

"Hmm?"

"Well, she's going to want to talk to him. Learn everything she can about him. And with the baby… Charlie shouldn't really be near Aaron right now."

"Oh, God." She rushed off to Charlie's campsite. Though she felt that she should be, she wasn't worried that he would do something to the baby. Still, she was anxious. But he wouldn't do something like that ever again. Or was that just her affection for him deluding the truth? She couldn't be sure.


	5. We Need To Remember

_Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like to, I'll never own Lost or its characters or its beautifully crafted plotline..._

_Note: Written and takes place just after_ One of Them

"Hey, Charlie…think fast," Daphne said as she tossed Charlie the jar of peanut butter.

"How do you know about … you need to go. You shouldn't be near me. With the little one."

"But why not?"

"I'm not really supposed to be around him," Charlie admitted.

"But why, Charlie? This isn't making a lot of sense." Daphne was looking for answers.

"Because I lied to Claire, okay? Because I couldn't control myself. Because…"

"What happened?"

"It's a long story. Just forget it."

"No, I need to know," Daphne prodded.

"I was a sodding drug addict," Charlie admitted, stopping, supposing Daphne would look hurt or surprised. She kept on listening attentively. "Well, I gave it up. I threw my stash into a little crackling bonfire and was done with it." Daphne was elated. She seemed proud.

"Then, you see, there was another crashed plane in the jungle and…"

"Another plane? Were there other survivors or…"

"No. They were dead when we arrived."

"Oh."

"It was a little plane, only a few people along for the ride."

"Okay. Go on."

"So it turns out the plane was filled with a few hundred Virgin Mary statues."

"Okay. So what?"

"They were filled with heroin." Daphne's smile faded. "And Claire found out what was inside a statue I was carrying around. I was daft. I should've just destroyed them all when I had the chance. So, she got pretty cross with me when she found out what happened. And I tried to baptize the baby."

"What?"

"Long story. You don't really… bollocks… Claire!" Charlie stepped away from the baby.

"Excuse me, Daphne. I'm done talking to Jack. Could I see Aaron, please?" She handed the baby to Claire. Charlie had already walked off.

"Y'know, Charlie loves you." Claire was knocked for six.

"What did he tell you…" but Aaron began to wail. The cry was odd, different, not his usual, healthy cry that just meant he wanted something. Claire cradled the baby. Something was definitely wrong. He looked pale, ashen. He had lost all of his colour. Claire held her hand against his head. His temperature was running high. Claire began to worry.

"Oh my God… is he okay?" Daphne was genuinely concerned.

"I don't know. I think we should go talk to Libby. She can help us remember. She can help Aaron."

"What? I don't know if I…"

"I need to remember. We need to remember. This is important. I'm getting Kate. Let's go."

"May I join you?" Rousseau stepped from beneath the shadows. "I must find Alex. And I believe you can help." Claire was hesitant, but agreed. The three took off toward Kate's spot.


	6. Fragile Minds and Unlucky Numbers

_Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like to, I'll never own Lost or its characters or its beautifully crafted plotline..._

_Note: Written after/takes place during _Maternity Leave_. Sorry if its a bit choppy... It parallels the show, but I'm not going to rewrite the whole show with my new character included. So it works like this: Most scenes take place in between scenes of the actual show. The rest are modified to have the new character included and stuff... sorry if the chapters are short. I've got a few more ready, but I'm doing them one at a time this time... Anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

"Woah. That was pretty sweet, what you didwith Claire. She did kind of freak out, though," Hurley told Libby after Kate, Rousseau, Daphne and Claire had left the area.

"I'm not sure I should've," Libby admitted. "I mean, you see how she acted. There was something really traumatic there, otherwise her mind wouldn't have blocked it. The mind is a weird thing. It can be fragile. You don't want to tamper with it."

"Yeah. Maybe it's a good thing it didn't work so good with Daphne. She was gone the whole time. I bet she'd have some crazy stories to tell us."

"I'm not so sure about that"

"Wait. What?"

"Something was weird. She did all same things as Claire, with the breathing and the eyes closed, but it didn't seem like she was concentrating on anything. I think she didn't want to remember. She didn't try."

"Well, that's reasonable I guess…"

"But, I don't think it is. I mean, wouldn't you want to remember if two months were missing from your life?"

"So, what're you saying?"

"I don't know. But, I think she knows something that she isn't telling us. And there's probably a good reason behind it."

"Now that you mention it, I do kind of remember that. But, there's another thing that's weird."

"What?"

"Well, when I was talking to her the first time, she pulled out a CD case. And there were these numbers etched in it. And they weren't like, crude scratches. They were perfectly straight and stuff."

"What were the numbers, like a phone number or something?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. And don't say 'try me' cuz I'll tell you about it and then you'll think I'm joking and get pissed and then walk off thinking that I'm trying to hit on you or something by making up some crap story…"

"Wait, Hurley. Calm down. I'll believe you. Just tell me."

"No."

"Tell me. I'll know if you're lying, Hurley."

"Okay. Before we crashed on the island, I won the a hundred sixty million in the lottery."

Libby laughed. "No, seriously Hurley. You can tell me."

"See, that's what I said. You don't believe me. You think I'm a joke." Hurley got up to walk away.

"Oh my God. You're serious." Libby said, placing a hand on Hurley's back as he was leaving. "I believe you. I'm sorry."

He turned around. "So you believe me now?"

"Yes."

"Okay. So, it was the lottery numbers."

"The lottery numbers were… imprinted on the case?"

"Yeah. And the numbers are… unlucky." Hurley braced himself for a laugh from Libby, but she didn't so much as giggle.

"Hurley, don't blame yourself for the crash. Or a bunch of stupid numbers."

"I couldn't tell you half of the things that have gone down because of those numbers."

"Okay, so what if they're unlucky? The Others… they know things that they have no way of knowing. If she was with them, like I suspect, then they might have put the numbers there. To scare you. And it's worked."

"You think she was with the Others?"

"It would explain how she survived. And why she's so reluctant to remember."

"But, the numbers thing… well, they weren't just any lottery numbers. I got em from this guy. He was in the army with this Australian guy, one night they heard this thing over the radio with those numbers repeating. He went crazy and his buddy killed himself."

"And you used them in the lottery?"

"Uh, yeah. I know, stupid idea. And I turns out those numbers, they were being transmitted from here. This island."

"Oh my God, Hurley. Have you told anyone else?"

"No, they don't believe me. Or, the ones I've told."

"Who did you tell?"

"Uhhhh… Charlie."

"Well, didn't you try to explain to anyone else? I mean, someone was going to believe you if you tried, because you're telling the truth."

"Oh. That make's sense. I was just kind of discouraged after Charlie didn't believe me. He's usually pretty cool. Wait, did I tell you that the numbers were on the hatch?"

"What?"

"Yeah. And every 108 minutes, you gotta type them into this computer down there and push this button or the world will explode or the pissed off giraffe is gonna attack the island or something…"

"Hurley, this is important. It might be a clue to something, it could help us. You need to tell everyone. Or at least Jack."

"Yeah..."

* * *

"Alex… was Alex your daughter?" Daphne questioned Rousseau as the four women searched the jungle for whatever it was that Claire was looking for. 

"Yes. She was taken from me. By them. When Alex left me, I was all alone."

"I'm sorry."

"She would be about…" she looked at Daphne. "…your age now. It has been sixteen years. Or so I have been told. I do not know if she is even alive. And if she is, who knows what they have done to her? Who knows what she has become?"

"I wouldn't worry about that. Have faith. I have a gut feeling that she's fine and that she's not like the rest of them. She okay."

"And how is that? How can you know?" Rousseau asked, wishing that Daphne knew something that she could hold on to, a hope that she could cherish until Danielle and Alex, mother and daughter, were united once again.

"I don't know," Daphne answered.


	7. Appeasing Aaron

_Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like to, I'll never own Lost or its characters or its beautifully crafted plotline... Also, I don't own Walker Percy's _Lancelot_ but I felt it a nice addition to actually have the beginning of the novel in here... anyway, enjoy. And please comment!_

_Note: Written after/takes place during _Maternity Leave_. Sorry if its a bit choppy... It parallels the show, but I'm not going to rewrite the whole show with my new character included. So it works like this: Most scenes take place in between scenes of the actual show. The rest are modified to have the new character included and stuff... sorry if the chapters are short... anyway, enjoy. And please comment!

* * *

_

Sun cradled the baby. No matter how much Aaron was swaddled, he wouldn't calm down. She didn't think that she herself could ever handle being a mother. The constant attention, the long nights without sleep. And the danger was even greater here. There were people who would do anything to get their way living somewhere on this island and if they wanted the baby bad enough, they would probably already have him. The thought made Sun nervous.

Poor Aaron… the baby looked miserable. The rash must've been troubling him tremendously. Sun didn't know what to do but what Jack had told her, rock the baby and keep a cool, wet cloth to help the fever go down. She hoped the baby would go to sleep soon, for both her sake and the sake of the baby.

Charlie watched from afar. He couldn't talk to Sun anymore. He was ashamed of what he had done for Sawyer. Locke had been humiliated. But was it worth it?

He hated seeing the baby like this, but there was really nothing he could do. He pictured a scene in his mind: he would walk up to Sun, beg her to let him hold Aaron. She would say yes, and when he would hold Aaron right away the baby would stop crying and the rash would disappear from his skin and his fever would diminish and he'd be happy.

But that was a stupid thought. Sun knew that he shouldn't be around Aaron and Charlie didn't have it in him to even speak to her, let alone walk up to her and ask for the baby. But how was he going to make Aaron feel well?

Suddenly, Charlie came up with something. "I'm brilliant," he said to himself.

* * *

"So, Daphne," Claire broke the silence. "Libby couldn't help you remember anything? No little flashes of what they did or where we might find this place?" Claire was hopeful.

"No." Daphne wished she could tell them something, but she couldn't. What if they watching? She feared being with them again more than anything else.

"Here it is." Rousseau finally said when she reached a certain point. "This is where you scratched me."

"No, take me to where you tried to take me before." Rousseau stayed where she was, staring at Claire. "Take me to them!" she yelled at Rousseau. She remained standing there, unflinching.

"No, Claire. She's not one of them," Daphne said.

"What?"

"Just, trust her. She's notone of theOthers." Claire looked at Daphne in disbelief, thendarted off.

"Claire!" Kate ran after her until she came to a large metal doorway in the jungle, adorned with a brand new Dharma symbol, a Caduceus.

"Don't open it!" Daphne said immediately. "Please don't go in there."

"I need the vaccine. My baby is sick. It's in there."

"No, it's not. I remember something. It's empty now, but there's people in there and if you go in there they'llhurt us. They'll come after us all," Daphne rushed, speaking as quickly as she could before the door was opened.

She was ignored and they four entered the strange doorway.

To Daphne's relief, no one was there. But it was empty, apparently completely abandoned now.

Neither Claire nor Rousseau found what they were looking for. Alex was no where to be seen and it seemed that all the vaccine was gone.

Rousseau was disheartened.Where was her daughter? Her first real hope in years, ruined. Claire saw this in Danielle and realized that she was a good person. Rousseau had helped Claire as much as Alex had. Because of mother and daughter, she was still alive. Claire apologised and told Rousseau about Alex... she was with them and there was hope.

"I think… I think I remember Alex," Daphne added very slowly. "She… she was my friend. My age. When Claire got away, they didn't realize it was Alex who helped her. She was safe."

"Thank you," Rousseau said andhalf-smiled. She knew now. Alex was alive. And she wasn't really one of them. She was a good person. That was all she needed. She headed back into the jungle.

"Well, when you escaped, Claire, they blamed Ethan, they sent him back to get you."

"You remember?"

"Not really. Just some. But, Ethan never came back. What happened?"

"Charlie killed him," Kate said gently.

Daphne's eyes widened. "Not Charlie!"

"Yeah. He shot Ethan three times," Kate continued, slowly, because she realized it wasn't registering with Daphne.

"Charlie's killed a man?" Daphne asked, still not believing it. She didn't know what to think. The fact that he really was a drug addict still wasn't fully real to her even after two months, but he was a murderer as well? It was something she couldn't get her head around.

And then, there was that whole other issue. Charlie was the one who killed Ethan. When the Others found out, and they would somehow, eventually, they would be after him. Again.

"Um, and there was a man who helped me" rushed Daphne, frantically remembering."His name's Henry Gale. You haven't happened to come across him, have you?" Daphne finally asked them.

"You're saying there's another guy on the island? Who's not one of them?" Kate demanded.

"Yeh. He landed in a balloon."

"Well, no, we haven't seen him."

"It had a yellow smiley face on top."

"We haven't seen him."

"Okay. Because one day, he just disappeared. I was wondering where he went."

"That's kind of peculiar… well, let's get back to camp."

* * *

"Hey there Sunshine. Would it be alright if I could chitchat with the baby real fast?"

"You want to talk to the baby?" Sun questioned him. She didn't find it really normal that anyone would want to have a chat with an ailing baby, especially one making this much noise.

Sawyer slipped on his new pair of glasses, pulled out a book, and began reading to Aaron. "_Lancelot_, by Walker Percy. I might as well start at the beginning I guess…" As soon as he began to speak, the baby quieted down and listened.

Sun was surprised but relieved and just listened as Sawyer continued "Come into my cell. Make yourself at home. Take the chair; I'll sit on the cot. No? You prefer to stand by the window…" Though still a bit wriggly because of his rash, Aaron did seem happier and he definitely wasn't crying anymore. As long as Sawyer kept reading, the rest of the camp was able to go about whatever they were doing without Aaron's cries interfering with their concentration.

Charlie watched from the beach, smiling. It had worked. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He wished he could be the one reading to Aaron right now, that he was relieving Aaron of his suffering. He realized right away that that wasn't how it was going to be. But since it was his idea, he was able to give himself credit, which made him feel a good deal better.

Would anyone ever know that Charlie was responsible? Probably not, but Turniphead was in high spirits and that's all that mattered.


	8. Interpreting Namesakes

_Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like to, I'll never own Lost or its characters or its beautifully crafted plotline... _

_Note: Written after/takes place during _Maternity Leave_. Sorry if its a bit choppy... It parallels the show, but I'm not going to rewrite the whole show with my new character included. So it works like this: Most scenes take place in between scenes of the actual show. The rest are modified to have the new character included and stuff... sorry if the chapters are short... anyway, enjoy. And please comment!_

* * *

"So, Daphne. You know, that's an interesting name you've got there," Locke said, walking up to Daphne who was sitting in the sand near Claire's tent. There was still something about her that he didn't completely trust, despite proof that she was on the plane.

"How so?" She inquired as Locke sat down. There was something odd about Locke that she couldn't quite place either.

"Well, do you know where it comes from?"

"No, not really. Why, do you know?"

"Yes, I do. I believe that a lot of thought goes into a person's name, that a name helps make a person who they are. A lot of the time, a person will name their kids something with great significance without even realizing it."

"Is it like that with you, Mr. Locke? Do you believe in the whole _tabula rasa_, blank slate thing?"

"You know your history. That's good," he smiled. "And as for _tabula rasa,_ I like the concept, but I don't quite believe in it exactly as the other John Locke meant it."

"How's that?"

"Well, I believe that people have an instinct toward certain things, from birth. People want to be liked, people want to be happy, people want to be accepted. But upbringing _does_ have the greatest impact on people. What a person goes through molds him as he grows."

"So, would you say the name suits you? Would you consider yourself a philosopher?"

"You could say that. And I think that this island is great for that. Life starts over here. You can become the person you've always wanted to be. Or you can let whatever was your bane before the island keep on haunting you."

"Right. A blank slate. So, Mr. Locke, what does my name mean?"

"Well, there's a Greek legend about a nymph named Daphne and a god named Apollo. The war god was angry at Apollo for being prideful, so he made two arrows, one of gold and one of lead. With the gold one, he pierced the heart of Apollo and with the blunt, leaden shaft he struck Daphne. From then on, Apollo was in love with Daphne but Daphne was unable to ever love him back. Finally, Apollo chased Daphne until she asked her father to help her. He changed her into a laurel tree."

"Um… okay? So I'm… a tree?" Daphne joked.

"Not quite. Now seriously, would you say that's you?"

Daphne thought about this for a while, searching for meaning in the story. "No, not really."

"Look deeper and you may find it yet."

But Daphne still couldn't understand. "So, have you figured everyone else out yet? Their names I mean?"

"I've thought them all over a bit. Kate, Katherine is derived from a Greek word for 'each of the two'. She's unpredictable, she's a good person but she has another side too. Now you try."

"Um, Claire… from the same root as 'clarity,' meaning clear and bright." Daphne was surprised by her own idea.

"And what does that say about her?"

"Well, she's a good person and she doesn't really… hide anything?" she finally finished, hoping it didn't sound stupid. She really didn't know any of them very well except for what she had heard.

"That's good."

"So, what do you think is the most kind of… significant name?"

" Good question. Maybe that Jack's last name is Shephard and he's always been the natural leader."

"Are you saying we're all sheep?" Daphne questioned.

"I don't know," he said pausing. "I've never thought of it that way."

"You don't agree with him being the leader all the time, do you?"

"I don't let him be in charge all of the time. It's a democratic thing most of the time. Just, a lot of them probably look to him for guidance."

"But not you, John."

"Hmm?"

"You said a lot of _them_ look to up to Jack. Implying you aren't one of those people."

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"So, are you going to let the rest of us follow Jack like little lemmings?"

"What're _you_ implying?"

"I've heard Jack's trying to start an army against the Others. But it's pointless. There's too many of them, too little of us. They've got weapons, Sawyer's got a couple of guns. We have no chance."

"So, what can we do?"

"I can't think of anything that doesn't end all _Lord of the Flies_. I'm sure you can though, John. You're the philosopher."

Daphne stood up and headed toward the beach. She wondered if Locke was seriously considering what she had told him. She wondered…

Was she really incapable of love? She had found a way to run away from it. She knew it was coming and she kept going that way. Because it was the way it was supposed to be. Because she never really loved _him_. Because…

* * *

"You all everybody…" Daphne hummed to herself as she tacked a printed picture onto her wall, among hundreds upon hundreds of other photos. She beamed as she glanced at it in the midst of the rest of her massive collage.

When her boyfriend came over and kissed her, she closed her eyes and tenderly returned the favour. As he pulled away and grinned, he glanced at the new addition on the wall. "What the bloody hell is that?" he laughed, half out of shock, half out of embarrassment for the guy as he made out the picture. He looked at it more closely to be positive. Yup. Just like he thought. Charlie. In a diaper. Right then.

"Oh, Driveshaft did a commercial, y'know, before the hiatus. They never really finished it. I heard they didn't have time to when Megan was born."

He didn't even respond. It was useless. He suddenly remembered the real reason for his visit. She changed her song to "You all every-Butties" and continued to hum. She turned to him, witnessing him place a stuffed polar bear on her bed and turning away.

"Tommy… what's wrong?" she asked as he turned away from the doll, which held a little scarlet 'I Love You' heart between its miniature white paws and a blood red rose between its teeth. She had given it to him on Charlie's birthday. "You've been kind of distant lately."

He turned to face her and she saw that his eyes were teary. He swept his light hair away from his eyes and gave it to her straight: "Daphne, I can't do this anymore."

"What? What are you talking about… us?"

"Yeah, Daphne. Us. It's not… working," he finally admitted weakly, choking up.

"But, why not? Things are going great. I love you," she said, still convinced it was some kind of cheap joke. He was the joking type. But this was different.

"I know you do… I love you too. But you don't. You don't love _me._"

"What're you talking about? You don't know what you're saying…"

"But I do. You love me because I remind you of him. Cos I've got blond hair and blue eyes , because I have an accent and I've got the same stupid grin…"

"Hey… don't you dare say that…"

"What, that you don't love me or that I think Charlie's stupid?" She didn't reply, but the look in her eyes prayed him to stop. "I know that when I kiss you… when you close your eyes, I'm _Charlie_," he finished with disgust.

"Tommy, you know that's ridiculous."

"No. It's really not. You've printouts and magazine cuttings and posters on every square centimetre of wall, all Driveshaft. It's an addiction with you. You need them to be happy."

"You think this is an _addiction_? Because it's not. I admire Driveshaft. It's a choice. If I wanted to stop I would." But in her voice there was a hint of something that made it sound like she wasn't so sure.

"Then give them up."

"What?"

"Give them up." She watched her, saw the look of shock in her eyes. "See. You can't. You couldn't. Just like they couldn't."

"Are you saying what I think you are?" She was affronted. She didn't think he would sink to that level. "They are _not_ drug-addicts. You know that's true, Charlie would never do something stupid like that, not ever."

"You talk about him like you know him. But you don't. And you never will, and you'll never get that bleeding photo signed because Driveshaft is done. That's right. Their indefinite hiatus thing… you know they're broken up. You need to admit it to yourself."

She remained silent. "Daphne, I know we've been best friends since I moved here, and we promised we'd be together forever…"

"And after," she finished.

"I know," he said, with tears in his eyes, "But right now, I'm going to give you an ultimatum. It's them or me."

"I choose you."

"Then you're going to have to do something for me."

"Anything Tommy. I love you."

He put his hand in her right jeans pocket and pulled out a battered photograph. "Burn it."

"What?" She couldn't get rid of it, not in a million years. Her life wouldn't ever be fulfilled if Charlie never signed it. It was her goal, her reason to keep going, her…

"See, you're not going to do it. And until you can give them up and love me for me and not for Charlie, this is going to have to be goodbye." He handed her the snapshot.

"But… we're going to see Sod's Law next week…Together."

"Do you even like them? They're terrible. You like them for the same reason you like me. They're from the U.K. They'll probably cover "You All Everybody" because they don't have any sodding songs of their own… You're trying to recreate that night that never happened."

"We saved up for those plane tickets forever… you can't leave!"

"I don't care anymore… bring someone else to Australia with you, Daph. I can't help you get over this, and neither can Driveshaft. You're always depending on other people to help you. But you're the only one who can help yourself. Bye." He kissed her softly on the forehead.

As he turned away, she grabbed his arm. "Don't leave me," she pleaded. "We're supposed to be together."

"I'm sorry…" he whispered and pulled his arm away.

"But we were supposed to be together!" Tommy reached the doorway. "Charlie!" she shouted. Tommy stopped. Daphne clapped her hand to her mouth. She couldn't believe what she had just said.

"Goodbye, Daphne," he said and left the room.

She sat down on cool dark sheets of her bed. She grabbed the bear and stared at it for a moment before she burst into tears. She pulled it close to her chest. Was Driveshaft really worth losing him? She pulled the bear close to her chest and squeezed it snugly to herself. She held the photo up in her left hand, tears streaming down her face, her lip trembling. Was it really worth it?

She leaned her head against the wall, tears coursing down the pictures, soaking them. She felt as if Driveshaft had betrayed her. She began to grab papers from the wall, tearing them away. She slashed furiously at them for the better half of an hour when she realised what she had been doing.

No, Driveshaft hadn't abandoned her. They were the only ones who could help her now. They alone could make her stronger, make her better, make it so Tommy could take her back. Her crying suddenly stopped. She grabbed a roll of tape and carefully replaced the tear-soaked portion of the collage she had destroyed. Fortunately, with its immensity, she had barely made a dent in it.

As she placed the last picture back on the wall, a sudden strange feeling came over her. She needed to go to Australia. She would be going alone, but that was fine. She didn't need anyone to go with her, it was better this way. Because she was going to get the picture signed somehow, and her heart told her the answer to how that would be done was waiting for her in the land down under.


	9. The Dance of Life

_Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like to, I'll never own Lost or its characters or its beautifully crafted plotline... I also borrowed some lines from the show as sort of markers so you can tell where the scenes go... it may be a bit confusing at times so I hope you guys can figure out what goes where and when...Also, the artwork by Edvard Munch is real... you should check out "The Dance of Life." Pretty freaky._

_Note: Written after/takes place during _The Whole Truth_. Sorry if its a bit choppy... It parallels the show, but I'm not going to rewrite the whole show with my new character included. So it works like this: Most scenes take place in between scenes of the actual show. The rest are extensions of actual scenes... finally a decent-lengthed chapter... _

_Also, many flashbacks... hope you guys can figure out where... it should be pretty obvious._

_Also this opening is a shout out toEvangeline Lilly and Dominic Monaghan for getting engaged and whatever...Something I kind of randmly thought up one day...anyway, enjoy. And please comment!_

_

* * *

_

Sawyer woke to an all too familiar sound. He hated the creaking, croaking sound those damn tree frogs made. The headaches he suffered from as a result of losing his glasses had only been aggravated by the frogs. Now that he had found a new pair, his reason for hating the sound was more personal. He killed the first one out of annoyance, but it brought him. He _abhorred _the sound.

But hadn't he killed that thing? He forgot for a moment the fact that since there was one it meant there were several hundreds or possibly thousands more in the jungle waiting to meet their end by the means of Sawyer's wrath. He looked over and saw one in the sand near his left foot. It seemed weird that it was out there, in the open, on the beach. But the reason it was there was unimportant. What mattered was that it was right there. Easy for Sawyer to kill without much effort.

He got up as quickly and fluidly as he could to not scare the frog off and stomped his foot down on it. But the frog wasn't in that spot anymore. It had hopped a nearly a yard to a new location. It made its guttural frog noise. Though just a noise, it felt like the frog was taunting him. Sawyer could swear he heard the frog goading him, almost "you can't get me," as Sawyer tried to tramp it.

He followed it, attempting to kill the frog every few steps but missing each time. And now there were more, each with their own particular sound, their own little insult with which to mock Sawyer. There were so many now, but he couldn't kill one. They all escaped the heel of his boot.

The frogs were leading him into the jungle. He followed the frogs into the entrance of the jungle. Just as soon as he stepped past the first bordering trees, the sounds stopped and the frogs were nowhere to be seen.

Rather, Charlie was sitting there on a fallen log, changing the bandages on his fingers once again. He sat there, left leg crossed over his right, his left hand spread so he could write whatever the hell he was trying to write. Sawyer wondered about the bandages. They had been missing since Charlie had been kidnapped. He seemed to be writing on the tape on his pinkie finger.

Sawyer squinted a bit to see what he was writing. The letter K. Kate?

Just then, Kate wandered into the jungle just where Charlie was. "Hey."

Charlie stood from the tumbled tree and pocketed the Sharpie with which he had just been writing. "Hi," he responded with a grin. What the hell was going on?

Then, Kate wrapped her arms around Charlie. He embraced her as well. She pulled her face back for a moment and then planted her lips on Charlie's.

Sawyer immediately ran toward the couple and tried to pull Charlie off of her but found himself unable. "Kate? What the hell is goin' on here?" Sawyer yelled, disgusted by Kate's choice. Charlie? Sawyer continued shouting angry comments to the couple but they continued to snog.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He punched Charlie in the right cheek, hard enough to bring anyone down. But Charlie didn't budge. He simply pushed Sawyer and Sawyer came down hard into the sand. Humiliated, Sawyer tried to get back up, but was kicked down again by Charlie. The sound of the frogs returned. The poured in from all around, circling Sawyer, belittling him. They were everywhere, everywhere, every…

* * *

Sawyer awoke with a start. From where he lie, he could see Charlie strumming a tune on his guitar. He realized right away that it had been a dream. A very real, very freakish, very disturbing dream. Still, it frightened him. He pondered the significance of the dream for a moment, then decided to try something else.

He marched on over to Charlie. "Stand up," he commanded.

"Hmm?" Charlie said, setting his guitar down softly so as to not damage it. He slowly rose to his feet,

"You heard me, Chucky," he said through his teeth, grabbing Charlie's shirt by the collar and pulling it up so that Charlie had to stand on his toes to reach the ground. Charlie struggled to get loose but he was no match for Sawyer.

Jack and Kate were watching from nearby. Jack started up, but Kate stopped him. "Wait, Jack… if this is something between them, Sawyer's not going to listen to you. Let me sort this out if it gets out of hand."

"Kate…"

"Listen to me. You look tired. What have you been doing down there in the hatch anyway?"

"What? Nothing. Maybe you're right. I'll lie down."

"Bloody hell, man, what did I do this time?" Charlie half asked and half yelled as he thrashed about trying to get in a more comfortable position but making his condition only worse. Sawyer pulled the shirt up more.

"Stay away from her," he said heatedly "and no one get's hurt."

"Sawyer, I haven't been near her… honest… I swear… Claire doesn't want me…"

"Not Claire, dimwit."

"Daphne? I don't… What are you talking about?"

Sawyer let go of the shirt but walloped Charlie in the face, throwing him against the ground. He was now on his stomach in the sand. He hurt, but not badly, and was a little shaken up. He didn't say anything to Sawyer, hoping possibly the raving lunatic would forget about him and move along to do something else.

"Stay away from Kate," Sawyer said in a craze into Charlie's ear. Charlie couldn't believe what he had heard. Kate? Charlie hadn't been near Kate. He hadn't done anything to her, said anything wrong… Charlie had to wonder. Sawyer seemed to be a chip short of a Happy Meal in the sanity department…

"Sawyer!" Kate followed Sawyer close behind as he went back to his resting place. "What the hell was that? What were you thinking?" She, of course, chastised Sawyer rather than helping Charlie who still rested on his belly in the sand. "Answer me."

"Just needed to clear something up," he said calmly as he sat down.

"You're insane," she said as she turned her head to see Charlie helping himself up. "Please give me… some explanation of why you're doing this."

"Just making sure you get all that you oughta have, Freckles."

"You're sick. I'm going to go help him."

"Don't do that, Kate."

"What is wrong with you, Sawyer?" She went back to help Charlie, who was already back on his feet and getting some water. Sawyer followed her.

"Kate, wait…"

"What? Why are you acting like this?"

"I had this dream."

"A dream? And so you decided to knock Charlie around?"

"I wasn't gonna hurt em bad. He just riled me up is all…" Suddenly he realized what he had done was a little harsh, especially based on nothing but a strange dream. "I just thought you deserved better than that."

"What?"

"Well, thanks. That makes me feel all warm and fluffy inside," Charlie said when he saw that Sawyer had become a bit more composed. "Deserves better…" Sawyer gave Charlie a spiteful look. "Well, I guess you won't be doing me any more favours then?" Charlie said jokingly. Hopefully, ending this on a light note would prevent Sawyer from beating him up yet again and put him in friendlier spirits.

Ana-Lucia nearly knocked Charlie over as she ran past the group on the beach at a hundred miles an hour. "What kind hurry is she in?" Charlie wondered aloud as she raced by.

"You were running like the devil's chasing you," Locke told her when she found him. Daphne watched Ana-Lucia and Locke chat. Jack was resting on the beach. She had overheard Charlie earlier in the day. Henry was in the hatch. It was a secret, she guessed. Kate didn't know. Now was her chance to make a little visit to the hatch.

* * *

Daphne sat on her bed, sheets hot and uncomfortable in the summer. The air conditioning was broken and all she had to do this late at night was flip channels on the television and hope that somewhere on the five hundred channels provided by a certain satellite network there was something worth watching. She had just gotten over an obsession with a certain television show about teenagers who fought off forces of evil. But after buying all seven seasons on DVD and watching them nearly all day for five months, she needed a new obsession.

Nothing was on. Nothing was ever on. Stupid television… news, news, local programming, news, not English, not English, infomercial… Wasn't anything decent ever on T.V.?

She flipped through a couple hundred channels, ready to turn of the television at any moment. Finally, she arrived at MTV. She almost changed it over to the next channel, but then something caught her eye. She saw _him_. Who was this guy?

Daphne was frustrated when the song was over, just a few seconds after she changed the channel to see him. He spoke… British accent? She thought she was in love. She sat up in bed, listening intently to what he had to say.

Well, not really what he had to say but how he said it. Nothing he said really stuck to her, but the sound did, and the intonation. She couldn't get over his accent.

What she did catch, however, was the name of the band. She took a pen and wrote one letter across each of her fingers, left to right. Driveshaft.

* * *

"Hey..." Daphne knocked on the only locked door when she found the hatch. So this was what they were talking about. The hatch… but there was no time to marvel about this place now. The counter, the computer, how old was this place? But she had a mission to accomplish.

"Daphne?" answered the voice behind the door. The door seemed paper-thin; sound travelled through the door perfectly, but it looked quite sturdy. "Can you get me out of here?"

"No. I don't know the combination."

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah."

"Good. So… when do you think you can bust me out?"

"I don't know… I'll need to get the combo first, and I have no idea about how that's gonna happen."

"So… did you tell anyone, prove I'm innocent?"

"Only one… but she doesn't know you're down here."

"Oh… so it's a secret. That's good for us. I know at least a few people know. Locke… pay attention to him. He hates that Jack is in charge. I bet you can start a little rift there…"

"I already have."

"Good job. And well, Jack knows. And Sayid. He tortured me. If you could see me you would know just how badly…"

Daphne almost started to say that Charlie knew as well. But she couldn't. She didn't want him to get involved with this mess. He already was.

"Anyone else know?" Daphne asked him through the wall.

"Big black guy."

"Oh. And that's it?"

"Yes. So, how did you find out?"

"I heard Jack and Locke arguing about it," Daphne lied. Henry wanted to drive a wedge between the two. Anything to keep Charlie out of this was important.

"Good," Henry smiled. "Now, remember, if they ask you about me, what do you say?"

"You are Henry Gale. You came in a smiley-face balloon with their wife. You buried her there… you helped me survive after I escaped."

"Very good. Stick to that story. But if you don't, if you tell them the truth, if they get wise to everything that's really going on, you know what we'll do."

"I do," Daphne said quietly.

* * *

Daphne decided to check out the hatch. It was weird. Two bunk beds, a record player with a records from bands no one had ever heard of… Geronimo Jackson? And a pretty decent-sized library of all kinds of books.

She arbitrarily pulled a book from the wall. She read the title. _Expressionalism of the Early 20th Century._ She flipped through it, not really expecting to find anything of interest. But she came upon one of her favorite paintings. "The Scream" by Edvard Munch. She kind of felt like the guy in that picture right now. Alone, frightened, ready to scream.

She turned the page. She next painting troubled her a bit. The girl on the leftmost side of the painting looked exactly like Claire. She had the same face, the same smile… she wore a white dress. On the opposite side of the painting was a woman clad in black. Daphne saw herself in this woman. She looked at the name of the painting. "The Dance of Life." That was life…

She heard someone walk in and hid behind the counter, dropping the book. Jack strolled through and sat at the computer. He had almost forgotten about the hatch. But he made it back in time, and sat down at the computer. He only waited for about two minutes before the siren started. He pushed in the code, then took off to take a shower. He had nearly forgotten his shift. How could he let that happen? He wouldn't let anyone know about this.

As Jack stepped into the shower, Daphne moved from behind the counter. She looked at the computer. There was something she was supposed to do with the computer, but she couldn't for the life of her remember. She didn't think she would actually ever get here. She didn't think there _was_ a hatch. She slipped away to safety, nearly running into Locke who was just now coming in to shave.

* * *

"Daphne, I'm not finding this Brakeshaft band section anywhere."

"Driveshaft, Mom. Driveshaft…" Daphne sorted through the D section. Flip. Flip. Flip. She spied it and seized it from the shelf. She looked at the price tag. $20.00 for a CD. This is just what she had been worried about.

"Daphne, twenty bucks for a CD? Wait until it's been out for a bit, the price'll go down…"

"No. I need it now. Please. My grades are good. I… this is all I need right now. Just this… I'll do anything. Chores… just name it. I need this CD." Daphne's mother noticed the sense of urgency in her voice. And her grades _had_ been quite remarkable lately.

"Okay, Daph." Daphne hurrahed and gave her mom a huge hug.

She practically ran with the case in hand to the checkout counter of the record store. She tapped her right shoe against the tiles of the store impatiently as the clerk rang up the album and placed the money into the cash register. As soon as she had attained her CD, she ran moved aside and started unpeeling the plastic wrap around her CD. Her mother took the change and receipt.

Daphne hated all of the wrap the stores put around the CDs. Finally, she had removed the plastic wrapper and the stupid tamper-proof stickers surrounding three of the four sides of the case, and whisked it open and pulled out the leaflet. She flipped through it, searching for the man's name. Finally, she arrived at the last page, a picture with the four band members standing shoulder to shoulder with each person's name written below.

She saw him, standing second to left, and gaped. He was beautiful. "Liam- vocals," She read aloud. So that was his name. Liam. She had found her new man.

* * *

"Hey, Daphne… could I tell you something?" Hurley said as he came upon Daphne, walking toward camp.

"Yeah, what's up Hurley?"

"Y'know that peanut butter I gave you?"

"Yeah… you don't want it back or something, do you?"

"What? No…" Hurley said. "Just, don't tell anybody about it, okay?"

"Why not?" Too late. She had already given the jar to Charlie, whom she expected to give the jar to Claire.

"Well, I've kind of been hoarding food, if you can't tell. And not really… telling anybody about it."

It made sense. The plane had crashed more than two months ago and Hurley was bigger than ever. "So, why'd you decide to tell me?"

"I guess, to get it off my conscience. I thought that if I told a couple of people about it, I'd feel better. But I don't."

"Well… what can I do to help?"

"Um… I don't know. I guess I just wanted to tell somebody."

"Well, your secret is safe with me unless you want me to share it with everyone."

"No, no. I'm good. Just… here's a chocolate bar. I kind of got caught by Sun earlier… but she seemed occupied with something so she didn't notice. I was lucky. Which is kind of opposite of the norm. Next time, I won't be."

"Hurley… what do the numbers mean?"

"What? The numbers… they're unlucky, dude. I don't know what they mean, but it's not good. They're cursed." Hurley remembered the CD case. "Why do you have those numbers on your CD case?"

"I… I don't remember. I just thought, the way you responded to them when you looked at the case, you were freaked. I just thought I'd try to see what was up."

"Man, promise me you won't go searching for the numbers. It's not good news."

"Right." But Daphne couldn't promise anything.

* * *

Daphne watched Charlie from afar while he roped bamboo reeds together with Sayid. She remembered an earlier encounter. Charlie had been wearing a grey striped sleeveless shirt. She had examined his tattoos from afar.

On one arm there was a tattoo she could not remember reading about. She recognized it right away still. The elvish symbol for the number nine. But nine what? Now she pulled the Oil Change case from her pocket and looked at the numbers etched in the cover. Why had she let them ruin the case? No matter… she read the sequence of numbers. Four. Eight. Sixteen. No nine. That was a good sign. The numbers weren't related to Charlie. If they were, the Others might have another reason to be after him.

On the other arm she remembered reading "Living is easier with eyes closed." She could relate. She wished she could close her eyes to the truths surrounding Charlie. From looking at him, she would never have guessed that he was a drug addict and a murderer. He had even supposedly set fire to camp once… he didn't look the part at all.

She remembered how Liam had acted the night she met Driveshaft… she now attributed that behavior to the drugs. But Charlie wasn't like that… he hadn't been since the plane. And he didn't seem to be a murderer. Not at all. But he had killed Ethan. Ethan had seemed kind to Claire whenever Daphne went along with them… he was creepy, yes, but… why would Charlie kill him?

She watched him. With everything she knew about him, she couldn't help but still love him. She wished she didn't. She wished she had someone to move on to, somewhere to go. But she didn't. And wasn't it fate that brought them both on this island? It had happened for a reason. And if she didn't love Charlie anymore, no one was there to fill the gap. And she couldn't let that happen. But she couldn't just close her eyes to all that he had done. Or could she?

Ana-Lucia approached Sayid. Daphne didn't like her. She gave off a kind of weird vibe that she didn't like.

"Sayid, can I talk to you?" she asked.

"Of course."

"Alone?" Daphne decided that this wasn't her place. She stopped watching Charlie and walked off. Maybe that was what was best for her.

* * *

Daphne waited outside. It was freezing… but it would be worth it. She just knew it would be worth it. Any minute now, the band would come walking out that exit door.

"Daphne, are you sure they're coming out that door? They probably left already…"

"Just wait, Mom. I know they're coming. I can feel it." Two hours previous, Driveshaft had finished their set. It had been her first concert ever, the defining hour of her life. Until she saw them again, she would never be so happy again… and now was her chance to meet them.

"Well, I'll go warm up the car real quick." Daphne's mother left her there for a moment for the car.

The show had been surprisingly empty… apparently no one had known about it. Otherwise, it would have been packed. They were all the rage in Europe, or so she had heard. So why was she the only one waiting for the group after the show?

Finally, she saw them. It was HIM. Liam. Close behind was his baby brother, Charlie. She approached Liam.

"Excuse me, mister Pace? Would you mind taking a quick photo with me?"

"Bugger off, I've got better things to do with my time," Liam said as he continued down to walk away. Charlie stopped.

"Liam, you're joking right?" Charlie said, surprised, grabbing Liam's shoulder. He turned around. Daphne couldn't believe her ears. She wasn't even sure what was going on… was she really hearing what she thought she was?

"No, I'm not. I've got places to go, birds to see."

"Liam. What the bloody hell is up with you lately? Stop being such a git. She's the only one here… she's probably been waiting since we got done with our set. She deserves this."

"Okay, Charlie. Since you won't get off my back…"

In a moment Daphne's mom was back, actually surprised that Liam was out here. So this was the guy Daphne had been raving about for the past eight months. She feared that Daphne was wasting her life… he was stumbling as he walked and was probably completely smashed. She idolized this guy… she might have to have a talk with Daphne in the morning.

"Mom… take a picture of us, please," Daphne said as she handed the camera to her mother. Daphne stood in front of Charlie and Liam and her mother snapped the photo.

"Alright, are we done?" Liam asked. Without waiting for an answer, he promptly left the scene.

Tears welled up in Daphne's eyes. For most of a year she had thought of nothing but Liam Pace. Was he really like this? She realized that she really knew nothing about him. She had read numerous magazine articles about Driveshaft. The band seemed down-to-Earth, funny, cool… but wait. Had any of those interviews even been with Liam?

Daphne began to walk away with her mother toward the car. "Hey…" she turned around to see Charlie following her. "I'm sorry about the way my brother acted. He's been rather off lately. Hopefully it'll pass. I appreciate it, you staying after the show to wait for a picture. We _are_ in a bit of a hurry… It's a shame I don't have a pen or marker… I'd sign your ticket stub or something."

"Thank you," was all Daphne could muster.

"Well, good luck. Get that picture developed. Someday maybe, you can come see us again. We'll both sign it." Charlie smiled and gave her a small kind of embrace. "Sorry."

Charlie ran off after his brother, yelling at him for his behaviour. He wished he knew what the bloody hell was up with Liam.

Daphne closed her eyes in the passenger seat of her mother's sedan. She remembered the interviews that she had posted all over her walls at home. Who had answered those questions with such cleverness and good humor? Charlie. Who had written all of Driveshaft's songs? Charlie. And who had asked his brother to talk to Daphne in the first place? Charlie.

Maybe she had it all wrong. For eight months she had been obsessed with Driveshaft. With Liam. But Liam wasn't Driveshaft. Charlie was Driveshaft. Liam was just the poster boy, handsome and tall, with an amazing voice.

Before, she had seen Charlie as only the peculiar-looking little brother. But in reality, it was his band. And he was a decent person. He had given her a chance, actually talked to her. She hadn't accepted this before because she had no reason to. She didn't know that Liam was the way he was.

But Charlie had been kind and considerate and funny… maybe she could get over the way he looked… maybe she could love him. This could be the start of something great, a devotion based on something real rather than on something superficial… She could love Charlie for himself, and nobody could ever tell her anything that could change her mind about it.

* * *

"Hey Daphne, y'hear the news?" Sawyer asked, spying Daphne returning to camp from the jungle.

"Hear what?"

"Sun's having a baby."

"What? Are you sure?" Daphne asked, hoping it wasn't true. If the Others found out about it, they'd take her as soon as possible. Daphne wasn't exactly sure what was done to Claire at the facility, but she could guess it wasn't too pleasant.

"Yep. Pregnancy test proved positive." Daphne frowned. "Don't know why there were any on the plane. I've actually got a decent stockpile of em… oh well, makes about as much sense as everything else on this island."

"Well, that's good for her." Daphne couldn't help but feel a little happy for Sun, who had been quite kind to Daphne ever since she had been here.

"I'd like to see fight that breaks out if the baby comes out half black."

"You mean Michael?"

"Yeah. It almost seemed there was something going on between them a while back… wait a second. You didn't ever know Michael!"

"But, you guys are talking about him sometimes… his son Walt was taken away and he went after him, right?" Daphne stammered.

"Right." Now Sawyer was suspicious. She was right. They had been talking about Walt's disappearance with little thought about hiding certain things with Daphne. They had said more then they should. But how the hell did she know he was black? He wanted to ask her more questions but she had already run off. Dammit.

* * *

Charlie awoke to harsh pangs in his stomach. God, he was hungry. He rose to see the Sayid was still up. Did he ever sleep?

"I see you are up." Sayid said when Charlie sat up.

"Yeah… do you have any food?" Charlie said, wiping his eyes and pulling his hood from his head.

"No, Charlie. Before you get up, I would like to discuss Daphne."

"Yeah, what about her?"

"When she spoke to you… did anything about her seem out of the ordinary? Was she acting peculiarly?"

"A bit, but I might chalk that up to being nervous about talking to me. She's a big fan of my band," he said, half-smiling as he did it.

"Charlie, you must think hard about this. Did she mention anything she should not know about?"

"Hey, Sayid. What's this all about?"

"I believe that Daphne was lying to us. Before you disagree, please consider the thought. Do you recall any such blunders on Daphne's behalf?"

Charlie had to think for a moment. "Perhaps… she seemed to know about the hatch. And she seemed to kind of remember meeting me on the plane. But not wholly. And that doesn't mean anything, does it?" He then thought about the peanut butter. He decided to keep it secret… it wasn't really important. He still wondered how she knew, though.

"No. It does not. But I feel that she possesses information that could be of use to us."

"Alright, Sayid. When we'll get back, I'll talk to her. Maybe she'll open up to me. She does idolise me after all."

"Right, Charlie. That is all. If you want breakfast, you will have to gather yourself. It seems that the only sustenance around this area of the jungle are those papaya." He pointed to a nearby tree with large, green fruit. "You may wish to gather some for Ana-Lucia as well. The fruits are not much to my taste, so do not bother gathering for me."

"Well, thanks then. I guess," Charlie said as he got up to finally get himself some food. He didn't especially want to get _her_ food. She was rather bossy and a bit bitchy at him. Oh well, he couldn't make everyone like him.

He thought of the peanut butter for a split second. No way, he told himself. That's for Claire. Someday he would give it back to her and she would accept him back.

Sayid watched Ana-Lucia sleep. He did not understand how she could believe Henry Gale's charade. Wasn't it obvious that he was one of the Others? Perhaps not so much to the rest of them as to him. He whole-heartedly forgave her for what she had done. It was not her fault. He placed full blame on Henry and his people. They had taken away his love.

But he recalled something that he had overheard Locke saying once long ago. The island will give you what you want, but you must give it something in return. Perhaps what Sayid really wanted was someone who understood him. Ana-Lucia had been a police officer, had killed people because it was her job, had probably lost friends or even loved ones to gunfire. She understood what it was like to wage war. Perhaps Shannon was the price. He hated thinking of the life of the woman he loved as something to barter with…

Still, he sensed a certain something about Ana-Lucia. She was sincerely repentant for what she had done. He understood her, and she him. She began to stir from her sleep. Sayid directed his glance to the space directly in front of him as she got up.

She noticed that he was watching her. "What?"

"Nothing," Sayid responded.

* * *

Jack and Locke stood just outside the hatch, away from a place where Henry could hear the two speaking. "You heard what he said. Ana-Lucia's going out there- the Others are dangerous. Who knows what they'll do to her?" Jack yelled at Locke.

"Jack, calm down. He could have been …" Locke stopped mid-sentence. He realized that Henry was not bluffing. Only one of the Others would unveil their plan in such a matter. And if he wasn't one of them he was both very daring and very stupid.

"Jack, have you ever heard about the Moroccan Crises?"

"Locke, what does that have anything to do with…?"

"Listen, Jack. Britain and France, after some tension, finally made an agreement, the Entente Cordiale. Germany wanted to see how strong this pact was. The Kaiser tried to separate the countries by driving a wedge in between them, but instead of destroying their truce it strengthened it. I hoping that's what we will be able to do."

"What has Henry been telling you?"

"We had a little conversation about Dostoevsky and Hemingway… I think he was trying to get me to question your authority."

"My authority, John?"

"He wanted me to take over. And I almost listened to him. I almost…" Locke hesitated, realizing how he had been played.

"But, you did get Ana-Lucia to question him before asking my consent. You let Sayid torture him after tricking me. And now, she's probably somewhere in the middle of the jungle right about to walk into a trap. And he's probably with her because he knows what's going on."

"I'm sorry, Jack. That was just what I felt needed to be done…"

"No, Locke. We need to come to an agreement with these things. And who do you think she got to go with her? Oh God. Kate." Jack made for the beach, running as quickly as he could.

Locke began to follow him, but a sharp pain ran up his right leg. He could barely walk. He staggered back into the hatch and decided to sit down for a moment until he was well enough again to walk.

Jack ran. What if Ana-Lucia had recruited Kate for her trek through the jungle? Kate could be in danger. And there would be repercussions about not telling her what had been going down at the hatch.

He thought about what he had told Sun. That she should tell Sun the whole truth, not hide anything from him. He was angry at himself for being a hypocrite. He hadn't told Kate because he didn't want her to worry. Buy maybe it was her right to worry. Maybe this guy should be of everyone's concern. Or maybe he was worrying too much… maybe he should keep it a secret.


	10. Trade Off

_Notes: Sorry It's been forever since I've updated this one... At this point I'm hoping that the story is taking a big change from the show, I'm going to try to do a more original story than just placing my character in certain situations after this one...Anyway, I hope you like it... please review!

* * *

_

It had been a while since Daphne had really been involved in the matters of the island. She was a little withdrawn, for she feared that if she spent too much time around the other survivors she would let something slip, and if she did that… the results would not be good.

After Henry had been found out, security around the hatch was extra tight. There was no chance that it would be unoccupied again and she would be able to sneak in a conversation with the prisoner… not that she really wanted to, but if she didn't talk to him soon, she was sure that their stories wouldn't match up exactly right. And the person she would've thought she would spend the most time with appeared to be exactly the strung-out loser that everyone had warned her he was.

Like everyone else she was surprised to see a number of events unravel on the island in the last few days. Apparently there had been a lockdown in the hatch, which she was completely unaware of until she noticed Locke's injury. She had noticed Locke limping just a bit before, like some kind of harbinger of what was to come.

Previously she had almost hoped that he would be on crutches… there was something about him that she didn't quite trust. He was too happy to be here and too ready to trust everyone with a good story… she wished that Locke better saw through her charade, that _someone_ would confront her and say "Hey, you know you're story really doesn't match up with what you said before…" but no one did.

There was also that weird parachute filled with boxes and boxes of Dharma Initiative food… she almost wished she could talk to Henry about where those things came from. She was pretty sure he knew.

So Daphne continued on with the whole gathering black stones for Bernard bit. She brought another few rocks to the big SOS dug out in the sand but realized quickly that Bernard had left and that only a small portion of the letters had been written out.

"Um… excuse me, Mr, uh, Bernard?" she said, approaching Rose and Bernard who were sitting on a tarp, holding hands and watching the sun go down on the beach.

"Yes?"

"What happened to the whole SOS thing?"

"Just forget it. It's not going to work anyway," he said and gave her a funny little smile.

Before Daphne could reply, Jack and Kate rushed in from the jungle with a man in their arms. He was out cold and looked like he had been through absolute hell. They set him down beneath a shady tarp and brought him water.

Daphne rushed with the rest of the crowd to see what was going on. At seeing his face she recognized the man immediately. Michael. Jack splashed water on the unconscious Michael and after a bit of shaking, the man came to.

"Michael… Michael, can you hear me?" Jack demanded.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," he replied blearily. "But, Jack… I was there, and things were… I need Walt, Jack. I have to get him back."

"First things first, you need to rest and you need to stay still for a bit. Too much excitement right now is the last thing you need, it could just make your condition worse…"

"Daphne?" Michael interrupted.

"What… you know Daphne?" Jack asked.

All eyes turned toward Daphne.

"I… I don't remember… when did I meet you?" Daphne stuttered.

"When I ran away, I think I… damn it, I can't quite remember either," Michael said quietly and with little energy. A lot was missing from his memory, and there were a lot of holes in what he had learned about these Others. But he still recalled some things, and that was enough.

That was why he came back. He knew more about them than they had ever wanted to divulge, but without help that knowledge was useless. He needed a few helping hands to get his on back… thinking about it too hard made him black out. He was out cold.

"Daphne, you met Michael before, and I'm sure you could remember. If you just concentrate, we could get Libby to try to help again…" Jack said.

"No, I think it'll come back in time if I just rest and think about it a bit, if I try too hard I might end up like him," she gestured toward the fainted Michael.

* * *

"I can't imagine what it's like to be in Michael's situation," Claire told Daphne as she rocked Aaron to sleep. "I mean, Aaron was taken from me once, but it was for less than a day… and I was devastated for such a long time after that."

"Aaron was taken from you? By the Others?"

"Oh, no… by Rousseau."

"She took him? Just a bit ago we were trekking through the jungle with her like we were old chums."

"I needed her help. And, she gave him back to Charlie when he found her, so it was all okay in the end I guess."

"Oh… wait, Charlie saved him?"

"Yeah… he was, well, helpful at least."

"He's not Aaron's father."

"No, he's not. His biological father, Thomas, well, I don't ever want to see him again."

"Thomas… my boyfriend's name was Thomas. Well, Tommy. Before all of this."

"I guess we've got a couple of things in common," Claire said and smiled faintly, wishing to get off of this subject and cooing to Aaron.

"So, were you and Charlie like… an item?" Daphne asked, hoping that she wasn't getting too personal.

"Well, no. But he kind of took care of Aaron like a father, he just assumed the role. I never asked him to. But, I can't let him do that anymore."

"When did you find out about the, uh, drugs?"

"Just a little bit before you showed up," she replied. "I never knew… he always acted pretty normal. You know how addicts usually are, all testy and temperamental?"

Daphne nodded. She knew exactly what Claire meant.

"He was never like that. He was always really caring, really sweet… that's all I can remember about him. And the whole peanut butter thing," she grinned slightly. "Until the whole baptism incident, he was just… Charlie. "

"Do you think he was using all along?"

"I really hope he wasn't, and I feel like he told me the truth. But I can't trust my instinct, I trusted Charlie and he had a whole stash of heroin hidden away all along that he never told me about."

"Oh…" was all Daphne could muster. She had never let Charlie finish that little chat a bit ago. Just because he had it didn't mean he was using, not that it made much sense. Maybe he was trying to prove to himself that he could restrain himself. She had changed her mind about Charlie so many times on the island she didn't really know what to think.

* * *

"Daph," Daphne heard in her left ear as she was repeatedly poked in the shoulder. She turned.

"What?" she shouted with exasperation as she turned her upper body to face him, knocking over her pencil.

He picked it up and placed it back delicately on the desk. "Look," the boy said, pointing with the Sharpie in his left hand to the nails on the right hand, which he had colored in with the black marker so his fingernails were black as well.

"Oi'm Chah-lie Pace," he said with an extremely forced, terrible fake British accent.

"Shut up, Billy," she laughed and smacked him in the back of the head, but in a playful manner. Since Daphne had told him about the whole meeting Driveshaft incident he had stopped acting like Liam and started acting like Charlie. He had even taken up guitar and bass. Anything for Daphne. They had been best friends since they were little kids and he had liked her for years, but no matter what he did he couldn't catch her attention.

"At least you turned around this time," he said, smiling. Sometimes she ignored him completely and stared at the magazine clip-outs in her binder and he would have to wave his hand in front of her face to break her gaze.

Now that she was at least kind of listening to him, it was his chance.

"Daph, will you go to Spring Fling with me?"

"What?"

"I'm serious. Will you go?"

"But dances are stupid, Billy."

"No, it'll be fun. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…"

"Okay! Just shush yourself."

"…eeeeeease."

"I said yes, Billy."

"Oh! Okay, rad."

The bell rang and class started. The kids settled down and all went silent.

"Class, you may notice the new student sitting in back," announced Mr. George the English teacher, fixing his tie with one hand and motioning toward the back of the classroom with the other.

Everyone had noticed except Daphne. She didn't notice him because she was staring so fixedly at her folder.

"Tommy, would you like to introduce yourself?" Mr. George prompted him to present himself to the rest of the class.

"Um, hi. I'm Tommy, I'm 13 years old… um…" he trailed off, nervous, and reasonably so. He had just moved from England to Southern California without much time to really get himself accustomed to the place. He didn't know if the kids here would be nice to him or if they would treat him like a pile of crap. At home he had been relentlessly taunted for being smaller than the other boys his age.

Daphne had other thoughts… she couldn't help being reminded of Charlie by this boy. She gave a little sigh as she listened to him stutter.

Billy on the other hand was already resentful that this new kid had shown up. He knew that Daphne would be all over him soon, with his stupid little accent and crooked teeth…that was just the kind of obsessive person she was.

"It's okay, Tommy. How about you tell us where you came from, what are your likes? Your interests?" Mr. George encouraged Tommy.

"Well, I'm from Manchester, England…"

_Manchester… that's where Charlie's from!_ Daphne thought to herself.

"…and I, um, my favourite colour is green, and my favourite band is Driveshaft…"

_No way…_ Daphne thought.

"No way…" Billy said quietly to himself in anguish. Hell no, this was not happening.

"Would anyone like to escort Tommy around the school, show him where his classes are, where the multi-purpose room is, help him get comfortable?" Mr. George asked.

Daphne's hand shot up. Billy's hand quickly followed. He couldn't let her fall for the new kid, not after all he had down for her.

"Okay. Daphne, Billy, come on."

The three students left the classroom and walked out into the quad.

"Hi, I'm Daphne," she said, holding out a hand to him.

He shyly shook her hand. "Tommy," he said.

"And I'm Billy…" Billy butted in. "…her boyfriend," he added.

"What? No you're not, you're just…"

"But you said yes…"

"That doesn't mean anything I just…"

"I assumed that…"

"…to shut you up…"

Billy and Daphne continued to quarrel while Tommy stood close by, watching all the while. Was this what all Americans were like? Hell…

"You know what, I'm going back to class, do what you want with your little Driveshaft buddy," Billy spat.

"Billy, wait," she said as he rushed back to class, but she made no effort to follow him, because she still had the responsibility of showing Tommy around.

"Sorry about that… follow me," she apologized to the poor boy that had been forced to stand through the break-up of two people he had just met.

"…did I …do that?" he asked, worried that he had been the catalyst for the split.

"No… I think it was kind of inevitable. We didn't ever really like each other that much," she lied, because she knew that he was crazy for her and she had always liked him to some extent. But not as much as she liked Charlie.

"Sorry about your… rather rocky relationship."

"It's fine. So, I hear you like Driveshaft?"

"Yeh, I think they're bloody brilliant."

Daphne smiled. 'Bloody' had been her favorite word for quite a bit now.

"I totally think so too," she agreed. "But Charlie's really the most brilliant of them all."

"He writes all the songs," Tommy concurred. "Liam's just the poster-boy. And those other two guys… well, drum and guitar are necessary for any rock group."

She realized soon that he wasn't as shy as he initially appeared. As soon as the two were familiar he opened up and the two soon found out that they had a great deal in common. The sadness she felt for losing Billy was overshadowed by the delight of meeting this miniature Charlie.

Tommy, however, saw exactly what had happened between Daphne and Billy. Behind her back he had approached Billy and talked about the situation. The two soon became close friends and despite Daphne's requests, he was soon a part of the group. Before long he learned that Daphne only liked him because of his resemblance to and idolisation of Charlie.

At first he was a little irritated, but soon he fell for her and it barely mattered anymore. All the while he attempted to make Daphne see that he and Charlie were different people. Tommy wanted Daphne to like him for himself. But Daphne liked Charlie, and that was that.

* * *

"Charlie, what'cha doing?" Daphne asked, walking up behind Charlie who was helping Eko build something.

"Oh, so you're speaking to me again," he joked. He found it odd that she had suddenly stopped following him around like a lost puppy after they had spoken last week.

"Hmm, oh. Yeah."

"Church," he answered. Daphne remembered reading that Charlie was a devout Catholic. She herself, being a bit non-religious besides celebrating extremely commercialized Christmases and Easters, had actually thought about converting but decided against it.

"Awesome…" she replied, with other things on her mind. "Charlie, did you ever do the heroin in the statues?"

"Getting right to the point, are we?" he said. "Well, to answer your question, no. I've been clean since about a week after we landed."

"Why haven't you told Claire?"

"Look, it's nice that you care about my relationships, but really…"

"No, Charlie. She told you she needed space. Time to heal. You've given her time. It's time to talk to her again. Give her the peanut butter, make things good again."

Charlie looked at her for a long time. "Daphne, you can't know how I've hurt her. I lied to her. And our best times together, the times before the baby was born, when I think she loved me…" he stopped.

"What, Charlie?"

"She doesn't remember any of it. Because of _them_. The Others. They took her away from me. Call me selfish, but I hate that more than I hate the deaths they've caused. I loathe them more for stealing her away than I do for them hanging me up by my neck in a tree."

"They… did what?"

"They tried to kill me," he said, almost emotionless. "I think they actually might've… I wasn't breathing when Jack found me."

Daphne didn't know they had almost killed Charlie… she almost didn't believe it. Was it because she had almost escaped? Was it…

"Hey, have you seen Jack?" Ana-Lucia came storming through the jungle, yelling.

"No," Charlie answered, "What's wrong? Is someone hurt?"

"No," Ana-Lucia replied. "Jack's missing."


	11. The Jack of Hearts

_Notes: Sorry It's been forever since I've updated this one... Here the story makes a major change from what's occuring on the show... and I didn't have the heart to do what the Lost writers did so you'll see some characters survive through some kind of intervention on my behalf...and part of this is in the first person... don't ask me why, I felt like I should but myself in Claire's shoes and just rant for a bit...Anyway, I hope you like it... please review!_"

* * *

Oh, God…" Daphne muttered under her breath when she heard the news. She was pretty sure she had an idea of what was going on, and she didn't like it.

"What is it?" Charlie asked, and realisation washed over his face. "What do you know?"

"I think…" she searched for the words. "I think that…they traded Michael over for Jack."

"Well that's hardly fair…"Charlie began, than stopped. Ana-Lucia for once agreed with Charlie. "No offence to Michael of course," he added. "It's just, Jack is a _doctor_. What if someone gets hurt?"

"We're getting him back. _Before_ then." Ana seemed determined.

"But...how are we going to do that?" Daphne considered the options. She looked at Charlie, who appeared to be formulating a plan of his own. She couldn't do anything now without a thoughtful consideration first. The tide was turning. The Others weren't playing by the rules now.

"I'd go see if Michael has come to yet," Charlie suggested.

"I'm coming with," Daphne said when the other two took off toward the hatch, where Michael was being kept.

"No, I think you should stay here," Ana recommended. "Something not quite right is going on here." She kept going. Daphne followed.

"What? No… talking to him might help us both remember and I might as well just come along. I was with the Others for a while, remember? I might be able to dredge up something."

"Just let her come," Charlie persuaded Ana-Lucia. There was something more to Daphne than met the eye, and he needed to know what that was. She was a bit capricious. Her personality swayed a bit from moment to moment- like she was her normal self and then out of the blue something would hit her and then she went to a darker place…

* * *

"Have you seen my husband?" Sun asked, walking up behind Locke who was now able to walk a bit without his crutches.

"No, I haven't seen Jin in a while," he said in response.

"It's just, I haven't seen him since this morning. He went to the beach to get some fish and he never came back, and when I went looking for him he wasn't there, and he's never taken this long before…" she began to cry. She hoped nothing terrible had happened to him.

"Sun, I'm sure he's fine. I'll help you look for him if you need me to."

"It's just…I hope he's not hurt."

Locke didn't dare tell her now that Jack was missing as well. Had the Others taken Jack _and _Jin in return for Michael? Perhaps they had a different plan for Jin…

* * *

Charlie, Ana, and Daphne arrived at the hatch door, when from inside they heard a beeping tone.

"Bloody hell," Charlie said, rushing into the hatch and sitting at the computer, and merely twenty seconds were left on ticker.

"What're the numbers?" Charlie asked frantically. "I don't know them yet, I barely ever have hatch duty…"

"4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42," Daphne said quickly. Charlie typed the numbers into the computer and the counter clicked back to read '108:00.' Charlie gave Daphne a funny look, unsure of how she could know the numbers.

Charlie swivelled around in the computer chair. "You ever been down here, Daph?" She noticed a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"No," she lied.

"Guys, did you notice something weird when we came in?" Ana-Lucia asked. Daphne breathed a silent sigh of relief that the subject had been changed, but turned to look at what Ana had mentioned. She stared at the metal door that separated this room and the one next to it.

They each walked up to the door, spying a white rectangular card on the ground. Ana picked it up, then looked at both sides. It was a playing card. Not the standard Dharma cards that they had found when they opened the hatch, but a Bicycle.

"The Jack of Hearts," Ana said.

"Jack…" Daphne started.

"And there's something written here… but I can't read it. Whoever wrote it had really bad writing…" she flipped it around, hoping that maybe Charlie or Daphne could decipher the loops written there.

Daphne saw the card and immediately understood. _Oh crap_ she said in her head. Charlie almost jumped.

"Bloody hell… that's _my_ signature!" He said, grabbing the card to analyse it more closely.

"Wait, I can…" Daphne stammered, but she was interrupted. With the noise of the counter gone, they could, for the first time hear Kate's yells from behind the door. They were muffled and barely audible, but could be understood.

"Who's there? Did someone push in the numbers?" she yelled.

"It's me," Ana-Lucia yelled against the wall. "And Charlie and Daphne. And we did."

"Is that you Ana?" Kate asked through the door.

"Yeah. Is everything all right in there?"

The three on the outer side of the hatch heard an inaudible murmur through.

"Who're you talking to?" Daphne asked.

"Michael's coming to," she explained. He was still barely conscious, but he was gaining his mind rather quickly.

"Wait… is Michael walking around and stuff?" Daphne asked, with a certain amount of concern in her voice.

"What, no. Why?"

"Just… um… I'm pretty sure the blast door will go up soon and we'll be able to do this without wearing our voices out."

As if ordered to open, the doors rose.

"Thank God," Kate said and left the room. "Henry kept trying to talk to me through the wall, telling me he could help. Yeah right…" she trailed off when she noticed the look on the face of the other three.

"What's wrong?" she demanded.

Silence. Finally, Charlie answered. "It's Jack."

Her calm demeanour faded. "Is he hurt?" she stuttered.

"No. But he's missing."

* * *

Ana, Charlie, and Kate discussed Jack's disappearance while Daphne cautiously approached Michael who was rising from his collapse. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed until after he had passed out… he was different. Being with those people changed you-made you do things you didn't want to…

"Michael," Daphne prompted him to speak.

He remained silent. What was there to say? He imagined that she had a similar mission-and nothing could stop them.

"Michael…did you know they were making a trade when they gave you back?"

"Don't discuss this. Not here. Not with them right there."

Daphne tried to evoke something in Michael, but he wouldn't respond.

* * *

"We need to get Jack back," Kate said. How are we going to… what's our plan?" For a moment she actually considered handing Michael back over. She was ashamed for even thinking it. Michael was a human being, not some kind of wagering chip… but she needed Jack.

She saw the same sense of urgency in Ana-Lucia. Jack and Ana had spent quite a bit of time together, she noticed. She had been almost jealous sometimes, but she herself had spent quite a bit of time with Sawyer. She, however, didn't know what happened out in the jungle _before_ Ana knew that Jack was missing.

Ana-Lucia felt responsible in a way now. She was supposed to be searching for Jack and she got carried away trying to get answers out of Sawyer…it hadn't exactly ended like she expected. Maybe if she hadn't stopped and gotten it on with Sawyer she would have caught up with Jack and saved him…and then she might have her way with him as well.

"We have nothing," Ana responded. "We don't know where he is, who took him…"

"But we have this," Charlie said, handing the Kate card he had been scrutinising. "I guess it's some kind of clue."

"It's a Jack," Kate whispered. "And… is this your signature?" she demanded from Charlie.

"Wha… yeah. But…" he tried to remember when he signed it. "It must be years since I did that. I don't even remember…What're you implying?"

"That you were involved," Kate accused.

Charlie was incredulous. "Wait just a bleeding second here. If I were involved with any of this, which I'm not, why the bloody hell would I sign my name on a playing card and leave it outside the door?"

"He was framed," Ana-Lucia defended Charlie. He was at the beach helping Eko out all day."

Kate put her hand to the side of her face and apologized. "I'm sorry… it's just, Jack is gone. And I'm not sure what everything is going to be like without him."

"It's okay Kate," Charlie said in a calming manner. "I'll help you out, any way I can. We all need Jack back."

Michael sat up and stared from the bed.

* * *

Sayid paced. No one would let him talk to Michael, as if they believed that he would go right to torture before asking him questions liked a civilised person. But there was something _very_ wrong with him and it seemed that Sayid had been the only one to notice.

And perhaps he _would_ have to torture Michael. But not without due process first. Not unless he kept secrets from them, and if Michael was telling the truth and everything was right with him, there would be no reason for him to lie and keep secrets.

But Sayid recalled Michael's departure. He threw Jack and Locke inside the locked cell and stole one of the guns and ran away. And for what? His son… if he was willing to do such a thing for his son- if he was willing to risk his life confronting the Others to get Walt back-Sayid believed that he would do just about anything for his son.

Perhaps he could convince Jack and Kate to let him speak to Michael if he told them that there was someway he could help- that he had been through the same thing and he could help Michael through this. Then he might be able to get some answers…

* * *

Aaron gives a sharp, sudden cry and I bolt up from an incredibly unsound sleep. I get up, hurrying in a half-daze to Aaron's cradle, bare toes crunching in the sand, and when I arrive there I know immediately that he's wetted his diaper and that I'm going to have to go wash some nappies for him and he's going to be wallowing in his own filth until I'm able to do so.

It's not supposed to be like this. We should be somewhere else, with beds and baths and wall-to-wall carpeting…

But it's not. It's like this. And I'm stuck here, and I think that I have some work ahead of me, but as my head falls in frustration, I see the pile of clean cloth diapers left by my blanket and realize that maybe I don't…

I'm relieved and exasperated at the same time at Charlie's concern. Sometimes I wish he would just stop with all of the help. At the same time I believe that I can't keep on going like this without him.

I pick up the nappies and get Aaron changed, but soon I find that I have to hold back the tears and I have to wander off to a close but secluded place in the jungle where I'm free to cry without everyone else wanted to know what's going on. It seems around here that one person's business is everyone's business… Then the baby notices that I'm upset and he gets upset and begins to cry, and it's the two of us, mother and child, crying in the jungle, with no one but each other.

And then I wish we had someone- someone who could love the both of us and be father to Aaron and make everything right. But it's not supposed to be.

And Charlie… I don't even know what I feel. I want to just walk up to him sometimes and tell him that I need him and I love him and I want him to be there for me. And then I realize that I can't do that because I don't even know if all of that is true, and remind myself that he's not the person I thought he was and that I don't really know him. What I do know is that he lied to us and I can't let him be Aaron's father.

Yesterday, I saw Charlie alone, focused on the setting sun, and for some reason I can't explain I decided that I was going to finally tell him that everything was all right and that I forgave him, but as I approached him from behind I flashed back to the night he took Aaron. Before my eyes was Charlie, ankle-deep in the ocean, eyes red and streaming with tears, with Aaron dangling from his arms.

Then I flashed back to the present and I turned around before Charlie can see that I was ever coming his way because I really everything will never be right and I don't forgive him for how he hurt me. I started toward him and turn back a dozen times before I gave up and went back to camp.

But I'm going to try again today, I'm sure of it. And I'm going to do _something_ about this and soon things will be right again…

* * *

Libby began walking toward the hatch in search of some blankets so she and Hurley could have a proper picnic.

"Wait, wait… Libby," Hurley called, waddling after Libby on the beach. "I'm sure there's some blankets here on the beach. And we're going to find that beach. I'm sure of it. Just don't go away, please?" He had a weird feeling that he needed to keep her here. Things would stay be fine as long as she was here to help him through.

"Okay, Hurley," she said and took his hand. "How about we just forget the whole picnic aspect?" Hurley frowned slightly. "Just a romantic stroll down the beach would be fantastic. And if we don't find it, we'll still have had the search, right?"

"Yeah, awesome," he said and smiled. He didn't know what he would do without her. He couldn't believe he had _her._ The way her blond hair glistened in the sun and her brilliant smile…

God, that smile looked familiar. He knew that smile somewhere, somewhere…

"You were in the institution with me," he said with the dawn of realization.

"Hurley, I…"

"No, I…I get it. You don't have to explain."

She was silent for a moment. "Thank you."

"No prob, dude," he said in response, and then Libby started to cry. She rested her head against Hurley's chest and embraced him. Hurley's shirt became soaked with tears. Hurley was a bit shocked, but he understood and welcomed her reaction.

"Thank you." She felt saved.

* * *

Claire was looking for Charlie and Aaron would not stop crying.

"Hello," Eko said, stepping away from his church for the moment to speak with Claire.

"Oh, hi," she said, smiling and cradling Aaron in her arms. She knew that Charlie and Eko had been working on something lately. It was all coming together now and was beginning to look like a proper church.

"How is Aaron?" he asked, curious to see how the baby he had baptized was faring.

"Oh, fine…but he's a little cranky right now."

"Why did you come here?" Eko questioned. Since the two had been baptized, she had never come back to talk to him.

"I want to ask you about Charlie."

"What would you like to know?" he enquired. There was quite a lot to Charlie that the two could discuss.

"I don't know… I kind of really wanted to speak with Charlie himself, but… how is he doing?"

"He is faring well, I believe," Eko stated. "But he is not really happy. He wants to see the baby. He wants to see you."

Claire knew this already…it helped to hear it out loud. "Where is he?" she asked.

"Are you aware that Jack is missing?"

"What?… no, I wasn't…" she stopped to consider. "I guess it's better not to just tell everyone though, right? But where did he go?"

"We believe the Others are involved. Charlie went with Ana-Lucia and Daphne to speak with Michael at the hatch to answer some of their questions."

"Thank you, Eko," she said and took Aaron's chubby little hand and waved it buh-bye at Eko. Eko smiled lightly and Claire parted.

* * *

Sawyer took a long knife and began to peel the blood-red skin from a mango. He considered what had happened between he and Ana-Lucia. He tried to convince himself that he had been in control. He was the one who pinned her down in the first place. But she was the one who kissed him-she had been the dominant figure in that act. She was in charge, and he hated it.

And when they were spent, she got up and redressed and stole his gun. And what did she say to him? 'Have you seen Jack?' That girl… he couldn't stand her. But they had done what they had done, and there was no taking it back now.

But what about Kate? He _loved_ her and he just knew that she had something for him and always would… this would definitely complicate things. Not because Ana would blab, which he doubted, but because eventually he would have to tell Kate. He could lie to her, yes, but not something like this.

But she liked that other guy-Captain Hero. The guy who always saved the day, Mr. Surgeon-Hero-Good Guy…he couldn't ask what she saw in Jack because, honestly, he saw it too. Perhaps the correct question was what she saw in _him_.

And the Doc was apparently missing. Maybe he was dead… no, even Sawyer saw that Jack's death would be horrific. Nearly everyone on the island owed their life to that jackass. But maybe if Jack was gone things wouldn't be so complicated. Maybe he could have both Ana and Kate… he took the knife and cut a thin yellow slice from the fruit and ate it right off of the knife.

* * *

"Jin..." Sun ran to her injured husband and knelt down by his side. She spoke to him in Korean and gave him a drink of water.

Jin didn't respond. His head was badly gashed and he was bleeding steadily and his right arm looked to be broken.

Locke couldn't understand what Sun was telling her husband but she was very concerned. He could tell she was asking him questions, but he would not say anything. He was in a great deal of pain, but he tried to keep calm for Sun so she wouldn't worry.

"We need to get him to Jack," she told Locke. Help me pick him up…"

"Jack's missing," Locke had to tell her at last.

"What… but he's hurt…" Sun said, frantic.

"We'll have to figure this out without him… I'm sorry."

Locke took Jin's shoulders, being extra careful with his arm and Sun took his legs. They lifted him. A small card fell from the hand of Jin's broken arm.

The two looked at the card on the ground and could only imagine what it all meant.

"4 of Clubs…" Locke read from above and tried to decipher the black marking in the upper right-hand corner of the card.


End file.
